


Distraction.

by Sinbirdy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Hank, Cunnilingus, Depression, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Character, Trans Hank Anderson, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 23:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinbirdy/pseuds/Sinbirdy
Summary: Sex won't solve his problems, but it at least helps him get through another day...as long as it's Connor to help him out.Hank needs a little TLC.





	Distraction.

**Author's Note:**

> Hank's genitals are referred to with either masculine terms or nonspecific references!

Sex can't solve problems. Sex can't cure depression. Hank knows that the problems rattling around his brain aren't going to go away anytime soon if he keeps ignoring them, but sometimes he just wants to pretend everything is fine, just to indulge in a moment's bliss. Sex is a bandaid. Sex is a water bottle. Sex is a warm blanket, a cup of hot co-co, and a promise for things to come…

As long as it's with Connor.

Hank knows he's overweight. He knows his job makes him miserable. He knows his antidepressants aren't working or his eyes look dead or his friends don't message unless they're in need, but he wants to pretend for just a little while that he's living an oblivious, carefree existence. He wants to flip off the dark thoughts gathering like rain clouds, and just enjoy being alive. No strings attached, no promise of tomorrow, just a moment's notice for wild passion and joviality.

Connor's on the couch reading. Hank walks through the door with a heavy heart, a brain filled with electrostatic and wrists crawling with cynicism, and he attempts to trade it all in favour of Connor's wide eyed expression. He tugs Connor upward into his arms and holds his face in his hands, kissing him quickly.

"Go down on me, will ya?" Hank says, shaky, with tears brewing in his eyes. Connor's taken back but he doesn't turn him down. He strokes Hank's face and kisses him tenderly - like real people do in the heat of depressed relief.

The walk is like broken film. The seconds crinkle and run, they blur alongside the tepid heat swarming Hank's insecurities, and he prays there's enough time left. Before he feels shattered, before everything closes in on them and crushes him. The bed sheets against his back is a blessing. Connor's lips on his, on his jaw, on his neck, it all helps to steady the growing storm caged inside his chest.

His beloved's slim fingers hold the rim of his top awaiting approval. Hank has to mentally prepare himself for what he's about to see; for what he knows Connor's about to see. Some days there's not a care in the world, but today is tender and vulnerable. Today is his brain's relapse, in need of a reality check and some TLC even if it hurts. He grips the blanket underneath him and breathes in, anticipating the reveal.

Connor is patient though. He's understanding.

"Would you like to remove your top?" His voice is like liquid sugar. Hank's heart melts down his ribcage. He softens.

"I...uh, if you're cool with me keeping it on, I'd like that-- for now." He chews his bottom lip.

"Of course, my love." Connor leans over to lay a delicate, assuring kiss to Hank's lips, and crawls down his body. He removes Hank's trousers and boxers and pulls his legs so he's sat on the edge of the bed. Kneeling down on the floor, he throws one of Hank's legs over his shoulder and kisses the inside of his thigh. All too aware of what's met inches from his line of sight, Hank's face runs red quickly and he averts his eyes from Connor in exchange for the ceiling. "You're very handsome, Hank." He hears Connor say in such a soft, loving voice he'd almost mistake it for poetry.

Hank's secure enough in himself to let Connor touch him, truly. He knows his identity, knows who he is, but it's still intimidating letting Connor not just explore but cherish parts of his body he's sometimes despised. He feels an odd shock run up his arms as the smooth pad of Connor's thumb rubs gentle circles along his t-dick. He moans inwardly, barely, and grinds his teeth together. He wants it so badly, but less than welcoming thoughts still flutter around to ruin his good time.

Hank's hairy, everywhere. He's a man proud of his bush, but when Connor actually nuzzles up against the curls of his pubic hair, he groans in disgust.

"Don't fucking do that." He says barely above a whisper. Connor doesn't move to meet his eyes. Instead, he kisses the thick bush of grey hair and laughs when Hank groans.

"Just giving you what you deserve." He kissed his thigh again and then licks his lips.

Hank's all too aware of Connor's hot, wet breath washing over his swollen sex, making him all the more needy for relief. He rolls his ankles and nearly clamps his thighs together to squeeze Connor's head; give him the warning how desperate he is.

His thoughts are so loud, so abusive, he needs them to stop. He wants to numb that part of himself.

"Please, Con...need you…"

And the gravelly tone that drags itself up every notch of Hank's throat goads Connor to experimentally flick his tongue out against Hank's swollen dick. There's a stiff pulse between them for a second, as Hank's body registers the pleasure and Connor's hopes travel through his wires. Hank stutters on a gasp, and his legs shake, thrown off by how amazing it feels. Connor hovers there between his legs, watching how the curve of Hank's belly raises where he arches his back, then he falls, and there's a small laugh. Hank's grip of the sheets beneath him relax…

Connor is gentle to begin with, like soft lapping waves of a calm tide. His tongue pushes down against Hank's dick just enough to make his calves tense, and with the end of his tongue he flicks it fast to make Hank's swollen sex pulsate. Hank mutters obscene praise between every stroke of his tongue, losing his breath and coherency. He loves how Connor reads his body like a prophecy, treating him delicately but with an authority edging possessiveness. All the dark thoughts circling him begin to disperse, and the clouds turn a mellow pink.

Soft, tentative fingers wrap around Hank's legs, deftly squeezing his thighs the deeper Connor delves his tongue inside him. Connor loves how Hank's body feels. His thighs are one of his favourites, in fact, he could spend hours just kneading the fattest part, watching his skin crease under the pressure. Hank always gets a little skittish when Connor spends considerable time tending to his thighs, twitching even if it feels heavenly. Connor makes sure to deliberately squeeze Hank's thighs against his face, wanting him to use his muscles, pull him in more desperately.

Hank's embarrassed when he lets out a high pitched whine and arches his back, overwhelmed by the feeling of Connor swirling his tongue around his soaked walls. He can practically feel himself getting wetter by the second, but with Connor's delighted, encouraging moans, he thrusts against Connor's mouth more eagerly, letting him drink him up. His own needy, horny whines fall from him with every airy breath consistently. He wants Connor so desperately, deeper and more attentively.

Connor slowly maneuvers to slip his hand in beneath his chin, sliding his forefinger into Hank and scissoring him gently, while his mouth worked on sucking his T-dick. Hank's back loudly cracks as he arches too enthusiastically. Connor pulls back with a loud 'pop', saliva connected between his lips and between Hank's legs. The sight of Connor's glossy lips makes Hank shiver.

"Are you alright?" Connor worries, placing his other hand up Hank's top and on the mould of his belly. Hank heaves out. He sits up on his elbows, his face lifting with an exhausted but sultry grin. He can feel Connor's fingers still inside him but they're still.

"Yeah, just...back gave out."

"Should I stop--?"

"No, no! God no," Hank chuckles. He leans forward and runs his fingers through Connor's hair. "Baby, I...I really need to get off."

Connor smirks. He pushes his fingers forward just a touch and delights in how Hank's face twitches; his eyelashes fluttering as a breath is practically dragged out of him.

"I'm more than happy to eat you up, Lieutenant Anderson."

Hank feels an electric warmth rush through his body, wrapping knots around his spine. He keeps himself upright to watch Connor as he lowers himself back between Hank's legs, and chews his bottom lip agonisingly hard when Connor flattens his tongue against him and licks up his cum.

"You're delicious," Connor comments, soft and breathy, the cold rolls against Hank's genitals. "I can find substantial amounts of prostatic acid phosphatase against my tongue."

Hank snorts out abruptly. "Wow, ain't that hot."

"I find it so. Reading data, storing samples in my system-- you know I can pull up samples anytime I want once I've stored them from a previous sample?" He dips down to lap at Hank's dick again, pressing in another finger and going deep as possible. Hank stutters. "I can taste you anytime I want."

Hank's eyes blow up like goldfish bowls. He fists the sheets in his grip, swallowing hard and clenching around Connor's fingers as they hit that spot that itches for attention. He struggles to speak at first, then follows a laboured breath with, "You're fucking filthy, Con…"

"Maybe." Connor swirls his tongue around Hank's thick dick and sucks hard, feeling him throbbing. He hears the bed squawk suddenly and looks up under his brows to see Hank collapsed back on the bed, and soon feels fingers tangled in his curly brown hair, pulling feverishly to fuck Connor's mouth more. The android's fingers race fast in time with his tongue, listening to Hank's cries get more desperate. It's like music to Connor's ears.

As the overwhelming fire envelopes him, Hank arches his back to a perfect curve and holds the position, legs shaking as his climax approaches. He can feel the earlier depression begin to subside in favour of his arousal, and Connor’s name dribbles from his mouth uncontrollably. All his worries become like stars amongst a rising sun. They're not gone, but they're weakened, and instead he gets the sunny delight of his love.

As Connor's crooks his fingers one last time, pressing with more effort and flicking his tongue quickly around Hank's swollen cock, Hank erupts with a whine, gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut. His body convulses as the orgasm racks through his body. He can't help but clamp his thighs around Connor's face and squeeze as tight as possible, thrusting forcefully against Connor's delectable mouth. He pulls hard on Connor's hair and practically uses him like a toy.

Connor's mouth doesn't stop thankfully.

He laps up every last drop of Hank's cum. It's messy, even a little crude, the way he flattens his tongue and jerks his head and torso for Hank to see him. Hank groans in disgust but laughs all the same.

"You're soaking wet." Hank's voice is cracked. His eyes are lidded. He rests his hand on his chest and holds the other out for Connor's cheek, and hums lovingly when his boyfriend follows his gesture, nuzzling into his palm and climbing up onto the bed. They maneuver to sit up against the headboard.

Connor wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks at the slick cum over his skin. "I think, more accurately, it was you who was soaking wet, Hank. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but you still are…"

Hank awkwardly rubs his legs together, face burning up with a blush as he feels the slickness on his skin. He cocks his jaw. He can't help but notice Connor's cock bulging against his pants. "Well you did just practically hose me down with your tongue--"

"Would you like if I made love to you now? I'm fully erect, and you always sleep great after overstimulation."

Hank snickers, shaking his head, but leans over and kisses Connor compassionately. His lips taste a little salty. He tries not to instinctively grimace, but it's easy when Connor's hands are already traveling down and grabbing his hip to shift him, throw his leg over his waist.

Hank feels some momentary closure. The darkness parts, and all he can focus on his the euphoria filling every empty space. Hank doesn't have to be alone ever again, and he never has to suffer in silence. Some days he'll talk through his pain, but for now, he just needs the blissful distraction.

"God, I really do love you, Connor…"

Connor smiles wide, cheeks wrinkling his eyes. "I love you too, Hank."


End file.
